Star Traks, Waystation, and a bronze-ish Saturn belong to Alan Decker.
The Explorer, her fated crew, and all the mistakes and uncomfortable
situations that come about because of her are gladly owned by Anthony
Butler, Copyright 1998. Paramount owns everything else, including my
eternal soul.
If you're offended by mildly disturbing language, situations, and the utter
disregard of some of Star Trek's greatest premises, better hit the "Back"
button on your browser right now. If not, welcome aboard!
STAR TRAKS: THE VEXED GENERATION
"Bent into Shape"
BY ANTHONY BUTLER
Captain's Log,
Stardate 52459.5. While we were mapping the Kritada
system near the edge of Beta Quadrant, we came across a
colony ship from the late twenty-second century that had
apparently crash-landed on the fourth planet of the system.
In the interest of archaeological discovery, and since we
really had nothing better to do, I've sent an away team
down to investigate.
Commander Conway, Lt. Commander Larkin, Lt. J'hana,
and Lt. Tilleran materialized inside a cramped corridor.
"Spread out, everyone." Commander Conway ordered,
switching on his palm beacon. "Remember, be careful what
you touch. We have no idea what this ship was
transporting."
"I believe I have found something, Commander." Larkin
said, gesturing for Commander Conway.
Conway peered over Larkin's shoulder. "A computer
terminal?"
Larkin nodded, plugging her tricorder into an
interface below the dusty video screen. "I will attempt to
access the ship's manifest."
Moments later, text began flying by on the screen.
"What does it say, Larkin?" Conway asked.
"S.S. Destiny. Out of Baltimore, Maryland. Launched
July Eighteenth, 2180." Larkin reported, as she absorbed
the information.
"What was she carrying?"
"Colony maintenance equipment, some scientific samples
from Mars, a load of Bendracite ore, some preserved human
bodies from the twentieth century, a set of chromium laced
biospheres, some grain handling equip-"
"Stop!" Conway said. "Did you say preserved human
bodies?"
"Affirmative." Larkin said. "During the late
twentieth century, the more affluent humans of Earth were
fond of having themselves frozen in order that they might be
revived one day in the future."
"Sounds like a dumb idea to me."
"You do recall that the twentieth century was not
exactly replete with intelligence."
"Believe me, I know. I went there, remember?"
Before Larkin could reply, Lt. Tilleran called out
from another room. "Commmander Conway, come here, quick!"
"Would you look at that." Conway stared into
the foggy glass of one of the human storage pods. "Wonder
who this is?"
Larkin accessed her files a moment. "According to
the data I gathered from the ship's computer, this is one of
twelve humans, preserved by a government project known as
'Project Coldfront.' Further information is classified."
"Classified, huh?" Conway asked, wiping away the fog
on the glass. "Can you extrapolate the identity of this
person from the cultural database?"
"Accessing." Larkin studied the face of
the person within the pod.
"I have inventoried the pods, sir," Lt. J'hana said, holstering
her tricorder and approaching Conway. "All but one of the pods
have been broken into. The bodies have been removed as well. The
only clue I can find as to where they went is this plasma
residue." J'hana held up a goo-covered finger for Commander
Conway's inspection.
Conway stuck his finger into one of the shattered pods
and examined the goo. "What exactly is it?"
"According to the tricorder, some sort of alien feces,
or other kind of biochemical waste product."
Conway shivered a bit as he stared at the yellowey
glob on his finger. "Is there any way I can get this off my
finger quickly without betraying my sense of cool?"
"Commander, I have ascertained this subject's
identity." Larkin suddenly said.
"Who is it?" Conway asked, wiping his hand off on his
uniform.
"A celebrity known as Richard Simmons Evidently, in
the 20th century, he was known for his powerful weight-loss
programs and helpful cooking tips."
"What's he doing as part of a top secret government
project?" Conway asked.
"Unknown." Larkin replied. "Perhaps after we
download the remainder of the ship's computer core we will
be able to ascertain that."
"Good enough. Have Mr. Simmons here beamed up to
Sickbay for further study."
"Commander," Lt. Tilleran said from behind Commander
Conway, "I'd like to stay behind with a detachment of
science officers to study this ship some more. This is a
fascinating find."
"Fine," Conway said. "Call down a team to assist
you. Meanwhile, the rest of us, including Mr. Popsicle
here, are going back to the ship."
"So I finally convinced Crewman Dyson to come
down from the top of the rollercoaster tracks. I tell you,
it's a miracle she didn't fall to her death." Counselor
Peterman said, idly munching on a celery stick.
Explorations was unusually quiet for a Monday afternoon.
In fact, the only sound that Peterman heard in the lounge was
the sound of Captain Baxter's frantic slurping and chomping.
"Mmm hmm." Baxter replied, shoving in another
mouthful of lasagna. It was Italian day at Mirk's All You
Can Eat buffet, and Baxter wasn't about to miss testing the
limits of the phrase "All You Can Eat."
"So I told Lt. Commander Larkin about the problem, and
how you said that it was probably a bad idea that Admiral
McGrath had that thing installed in the Adventure Colloseum
on our last refit. She agreed that some safety precautions needed
to be taken, so no one else gets stuck up there."
"Like what?" Baxter asked, pausing in between chomps.
"Well," Peterman said, "like seatbelts, for intance."
"You think?" Baxter said, continuing to eat.
"Our rollercoaster is equipped with a stasis field
that keeps the occupants held in. But Crewman Dyson's
field failed, causing her to fall back behind the car and
become trapped at the top."
"How horrible for her," Baxter said, continuing to
shove food into his mouth.
"And I'm sure you remember how I told you she's afraid
of heights..."
"Yep." Baxter replied.
"And agoraphobic."
"Yep," Baxter agreed again.
"I knew you weren't listening!" Peterman said.
"Crewman Dyson is NOT agoraphobic. It's Ensign Welch
that's agoraphobic."
Baxter looked up from his plate. "Listen, Kelly,
there are four hundred people on this ship. I can't
remember the psych profile of each and every one of them."
"I told you yesterday." Peterman said, folding her
arms. "All you care about is that damned buffet. Ever
since Mirk installed it it's all you can do to stay away
from this place."
"It's a great deal, Kelly." Baxter said, pushing
himself up and trudging back to the buffet, pushing Lt. Ford
aside to get to the baked ziti.
Peterman rapped her fingernails on the lighted table
until Baxter returned.
Baxter sighed as he squeezed into the opposite side of
the booth. "Ugh. This booth is getting smaller."
"The booth is NOT getting smaller, Andy." Peterman
said exasperatedly. "You're getting BIGGER."
"Am not," Baxter said, continuing to eat.
"So your uniform is shrinking too?" Peterman asked.
"My uniform fits fine."
"Sure it does. That's why Yeoman Briggs had to take
it out two inches last week."
"That's a vicious rumor." Baxter continued to eat.
"Andy!" Peterman said, reaching forward and
grabbing Baxter's hands in her own. "I'm getting worried
about you. You don't have Janice's metabolism. You know
everything goes right to your little love handles. And
they're not so little anymore."
"You don't love me." Baxter said, a tear trickling
down his cheek.
"Give me a break." Peterman leaned back so Baxter could
resume his eating. "That only works on guys."
"It was worth a try." Baxter said through a mouthful
of ziti. "Listen, if you only loved me for my chiseled
physique, then you might as well find another man right now,
because what you see is what you get."
"And every day I'm getting a little more." Peterman
sighed, staring at Baxter as he ate.
Suddenly an alarm klaxon blared throughout Mirk's bar.
Mirk looked up fearfully. "Okay everyone, that's a
Red Alert. Everyone to stations, NOW!"
"Sheesh." Peterman said, covering her face as Mirk's
staff scrambled around the lounge.
Suddenly the doors parted and Dr. Browning strolled in.
She looked around at everyone and suddenly put two
fingers in her mouth and whistled. "Hey! I'm not eating!
I just came to talk to the captain!"
"Oh," Mirk said, hitting a button under his bar. "As
you were, everybody."
Browning approached Baxter and Peterman's booth, looking
at Baxter and smiling. "My, Captain, you are looking
healthy today."
"Thank you, Janice." Baxter said, glaring at Peterman.
"At least some people can appreciate a good food intake
level."
Peterman just shook her head. "What brings you here,
Janice?"
"I've finished preliminary tests on our iceman.
He's definitely alive, and stable for revival."
"How exciting!" Peterman exclaimed.
"I don't know." Baxter said. "We don't know anything
about this guy, other than he was a 20th century celebrity
of some sort. What if he's dangerous?"
"Please." Peterman said. "This is an excellent
chance to get to talk to someone who lived back then."
"I got a taste of what it was like to live back then,
and it wasn't so great, honey." Baxter said, wiping his
mouth off. "We have ethical considerations here."
"So you suggest we just keep him on ice for another
three hundred years?"
"I--" Baxter said, when suddenly the comm system
beeped.
"Nurse Carter to Dr. Browning. We have a situation down
in sickbay."
"What kind of situation, Holly?" Browning asked.
"Our little guest just woke up."
"Well," Baxter said, standing up. "Guess it's a moot
point now. Let's get down there."
"The iceman cometh," Peterman said happily, following
Browning and Baxter out of Mirk's.
Captain Baxter stepped into sickbay, where he found a
group of medical technicians, including Nurse White,
surrounding a biobed.
Baxter pushed through the crowd.
"Why hello," the man on the biobed said with a gentle
smile. "You must be Captain Baxter. I'm Richard Simmons."
"Charmed," Baxter said, shaking the man's hand.
The first thing Baxter noticed about Simmons was his
hair. It was puffy, curly, almost like an afro. And his clothes!
"I'm sure you're in a hurry to get out of that outfit,"
Baxter said. "Is that what they froze you in?"
Simmons looked down at his tight pink spandex shorts and
red, white, and blue tankop. "These are my regular duds,
Captain. Aren't they great? So sporty! I'm always ready to
work out!"
"Indeed," Baxter said. "Well, I'm sure you have a lot
to tell us about how you got here, and we have just as much
to tell you about where you are. But before we go any
further, I'm going to let you get settled into some
quarters."
"How thoughtful!" Simmons exclaimed.
Peterman pushed past Baxter, moving to shake Simmons'
hand. "Why, hello there! I'm the ship's counselor, Kelly
Peterman. I'll be here to smooth your transition to this
new environment!"
"You will?" Baxter asked.
"That's wonderful!" Simmons said. "I'd love to sit
down and kibitz with you over a nice cup of camomile tea!"
"Come on, then!" Peterman said, offering Simmons her
arm and leading him out of sickbay.
"But--" Baxter and Browning said.
But it was too late. Simmons and Peterman were both
gone.
And somehow Baxter realized that the day was just
going to go downhill from there.
"And this is the bridge," Peterman said, gesturing
for Simmons to follow her out of the turbolift. "This is
the hub of activity for the entire starship."
"I don't believe it," Simmons said, looking around.
"We're actually in space."
"Deep space," Peterman clarified. "Near the edge of
the galaxy."
"Look at all this technology," Simmons said. "Who
knew we'd come this far in only thirty years!"
"Three hundred years," Peterman corrected.
"Oh, that's right." Simmons said. "I keep getting
the numbers all mixed up."
"It's okay, your brain was frozen a long time. It'll
all come back to you soon."
Simmons squeezed Peterman in a big bear hug. "You're
so great, Kelly! I wouldn't be able to take this big
transition without you!"
"That's what I'm here for."
Commander Conway looked up from the command chair as
Peterman and Simmons embraced. "Who the hell is that
clown?"
"This clown," Peterman said indignantly, "is the man
we rescued from the crashed ship."
"That's the exercize guru?" Conway chuckled. "Looks
like a scrawny little geek to me!"
"Hey!" Peterman said, "that's my friend you're talking
about."
Simmons held up a hand. "It's okay, Kelly. Some
people pack the hurt in so tight it dribbles out sometimes.
Isn't that right, Mr. Frowny?"
"Dear Lord," Conway said, glaring at Simmons. "Is
this guy related to you, Peterman?"
"If only," Peterman sighed. "This man is a mental
health and dietary genius. He was so unappreciated in his
time that they felt the need to freeze him in a vault, until
such time as society had evolved to the point where it could
appreciate his insight."
"In that case," Conway said, taking a swig of his
coffee. "I say you put him back in."
"Someone needs a hug." Simmons said, outstretching
his arms towards Conway.
"Don't touch me," Conway said, backing away.
"Counselor, escort your little friend back to his quarters.
He's not even cleared to be on the bridge."
"Why don't you unlock that box of love inside you, let
it fly out and soak up all that sludgy old anger!" Simmons
said, as Peterman led him back to the turbolift.
"If I had love in me, I'd have found it by now."
Conway said, sitting back down in the command chair.
"I have the key to that little love box, Commander!"
Simmons cried out as the door closed. "Please let me unlock
it!"
"What a wacko," J'hana said from tactical.
"Tell me about it."
"We managed to break the computer's coding, Captain,"
Lt. Commander Larkin said, indicating the information as it flew by
on the screen down in engineering as Captain Baxter and Lt.
Commander Richards looked on.
"You won't believe what we've found," Richards said, hitting a
button on the viewscreen. Four pictures, followed by a few paragraphs
of information each, appeared on the viewscreen.
"This is a roster of the Destiny's frozen crew, sir." Larkin said.
Baxter peered at each person on the screen. "What do all these people
have in common?"
"That's the strange thing." Richards replied. "Very little, other than
the fact that most all of them were involved in the entertainment
industry. One worked with computers, two others in politics."
"We will have to study the classified database more
thoroughly before we can determine the actual reason the
government had for freezing these individuals and later
launching them into deep space. Whatever the case, though,
they were definitely designed to survive many hundreds of
years of suspended animation."
Baxter read some of the names off the screen. "Richard
Simmons, Martha Stewart, Gallagher, Bill Gates. Hanson
brothers? Hmm. I don't recognize any of the names."
"The pod occupants have not been found," Larkin explained.
"The pods were broken open and covered with some sort of
unidentifiyable biological matter."
"Then these other subjects were most likely abducted and
eaten by the inhabitants of Kritada Four," Baxter reasoned.
"Possibly." Richards said, "but if not..."
"There's no telling what they could be doing running around
in the twenty-fourth century," Baxter completed Richards's
sentence. "Larkin...I want you to take a squadron of
security officers down to the planet and scour its surface. If
those people are alive down there, we have a responsibility to
find them."
After giving up on waiting for her patient to return,
Dr. Browning decided to grab an early dinner at Mirk's. After
all, the All You Can Eat buffet would only be offered for a
limited time.
Browning had just begun cramming in her huge plate of
spaghetti and meatballs when Peterman and Simmons strolled
into the lounge.
"Janice, there you are!" Peterman said, leading
Simmons over to the Doctor's booth. "Here we are, Richard.
The hippest eating establishment on the Explorer."
"Very nice." Simmons looked down at Browning. "Dr.
Browning, right?"
"Yeah." Browning said, looking up from her food. She
had a shiny red goatee made of tomato sauce all around her
mouth. "Have a seat."
Simmons and Peterman sat down opposite Dr. Browning.
"Having some spaghetti, I see." Simmons said,
watching as Browning ate.
"Uh-huh." Browning said as she shoved in a piece of
garlic bread.
"You know, pasta is a great idea. Very high in
carbohydrates. What's killing you is the meatballs.
They're loaded with cholesterol. Did you ever think of a
light vegetable topping, instead of that heavy meat sauce?"
"No." Browning continued to eat.
"Look at you," Simmons said sadly. "Wallowing in that
meal like you're a pig. Don't you feel ashamed?"
"Not really." Browning said through a mouthful of
spaghetti.
"Wouldn't it feel great to leave a meal without being
stuffed, without feeling the pain of fattening food weighing
you down?"
"Listen to him, Janice, he knows what he's talking
about." Peterman said.
Browning looked up a moment. "What the heck is this?
Can't I even eat in peace?"
Simmons put a hand on Browning's hand, rubbing it gently.
"This isn't peace, honey. This is a war. You're fighting a
war with your body you just can't win. When are you going
to sign that treaty and begin the rebuilding process?"
"You're a wacko." Browning said, sliding out of the booth.
"Now if you'll excuse me, I'm about to go get some cheesecake
and drop an A-bomb on myself."
"I'm not going to give up on you, sweetheart, don't
worry. I'm fighting for you, even if you aren't!" Simmons
cried. "Now how about joining me for some salad and a nice
bowl of lentil soup, Kelly?"
"I'd love to!" Peterman said, following Simmons over
to the bar.
Captain Baxter turned over in bed, pulling the covers
over him tightly and curling into a ball. He cracked one
eye open, noting that the time on the chronomter was only
0740. He still had ten minutes to sleep, thanks to his
extremely efficient ten minute morning ritual. He had found
a way to get up at 0750 and still be on the bridge by 0800.
Of course, this meant missing some vital places in the
shower, but that was a sacrifice Baxter was willing to make.
"Hey, sleepyhead, let's roll out of there!" a voice
said, as suddenly the speakers in Baxter's bedroom came to
life with a throbbing rendition of "Funkytown."
"What the hell?" Baxter said, shooting up in bed.
Simmons was standing there, decked out in a pink and
blue spandex leotard, ready for action. Next to him,
similarly decked out, but much more appealing, was Counselor
Peterman.
"Up an at 'em, fat boy!" Peterman said, dragging
Baxter out of bed and into the other room.
"But--" Baxter said.
"No buts, we're getting you in shape!" Peterman said.
"But I don't want to be in shape!" Baxter pleaded.
"Too bad." Peterman said. "It's for your own good.
Now we're playing some oldies, and it's time to start
sweatin'."
"You know the only time I like to sweat is when we
make love," Baxter whined.
"Well, if you want to sweat then, you gotta sweat now,
because otherwise, you're not getting any," Peterman said.
"Now let's see some deep-knee thrusts."
"But Kellyyyyyyyyyyy!" Baxter whined.
"Move!" Peterman shouted, thrusting up and down for
Baxter to watch.
The Captain raised an eyebrow. "I'm getting a workout
just watching you, baby."
"Come on!" Simmons cried, dancing into the room and
swinging his arms in the air. "Let's feel that burn!"
"You're gonna feel something burn in about one more
minute, buddy," Baxter said, grunting as he thrusted up
again. He could hear loud cracks each time he moved, his
joints sighing heavily under the stress of the activity.
Moments later, Charlie ran to join Baxter, jumping onto his
leg and humping away with thrusts of his own.
For their part, Pandora and Fritz skittered in between
Peterman and Simmon's legs.
Baxter sighed, pushing Charlie off him and continuing
to squat.
This was a hell of a way to start the day.
Lt. Commander Larkin trudged along the vast, red expanse of
rock that made up most of the surface of Kritada Four, as
several shuttlecraft streaked overhead, in search of the
missing humans. If the other thawed-out humans had managed
to escape the wreckage of the Destiny, Larkin did not give
their chances of survival in this environment much
consideration. Kritada Four was a world of heat, turbulent wind,
and thunderous earthquakes. Then again, from what Larkin gathered
from her cultural database, if anyone could make a place a home,
Martha Stewart could. And that was a good thing.
"Milano to Lieutenant Larkin," the voice of Ensign
Tim Milano, the security officer assigned to search the
caves in the northwest continent said over Larkin's
commbadge.
"Larkin here. Report." Larkin replied.
"I think we've found something, Lieutenant."
"Specify." Lt. Commander Larkin said, looking up from
her tricorder data. "What have you found?"
"About seventy meters past the caves we found a large--
Holy crap! Larkin, we found some-zrrrt...." The
signal abruptly cut off.
"Ensign Milano?" Larkin asked. "Ensign Milano, are
you there?"
It would take two hours on foot for Larkin to reach
Milano's location, so she immediately tapped her comm badge.
"Larkin to Cartier."
"Saral here, go ahead."
"I have lost contact with Ensign Milano's team and I
fear they are in danger. Lock onto my position and pick me
up in your shuttlecraft immediately."
"Changing course now." Saral replied.
"He's late again." J'hana said, rapping her fingers
on the tactical console and glancing at the chronometer on
her panel.
"I'll give him five more minutes." Conway said.
"Then the ship is mine."
At that, Baxter stumbled onto the bridge, wheezing
heavily.
"That's my boy." Peterman said from behind him,
patting him on the back. "You did good. Don't you feel
wonderful?"
"Drink now," Baxter said, stumbling over to the
replicator and ordering a grapefruit juice.
"What the hell happened to him?" Conway said, moving
over into his usual seat.
"Richard gave Andy one of his workouts. It almost
killed him, but you know what they say. Whatever doesn't
kill you..."
"...is still extremely painful." Baxter wheezed,
collapsing into his chair between Peterman and Conway.
"I'm never doing that again."
"Then that's not all you won't be doing again,"
Peterman said, folding her arms.
"Kelly, don't be that way." Baxter said. "You can't
just expect me to reform overnight."
"It won't be easy, but Richard and I are convinced
that you can do it." Peterman said. "Now, how about a nice
fat free bran muffin?"
"I'd die first." Baxter folded his arms. "I'm going down to
Mirk's at nine to have my cheesy scrambled eggs and bagel
like I've done for the last year and a half, and there's nothing
you and that spandex-clad freak can do about it."
"Wanna make a bet?"
"I'm so sorry, Captain," Conway said, mocking
sympathy. "You must be taking this sudden change in
lifestyle quite hard."
"Can it, Conway." Baxter said. "I'm in no mood for
your crap today."
"What are you going to do about it, Captain, sentence
me to an exercise program too?" Conway said, laughing
hysterically.
"That's just what I had in mind!" Simmons suddenly
said, stepping out of the turbolift. "Everyone on their
feet. Computer, play Simmons Three."
Suddenly the bridge came alive with disco lights and
the sounds of "Love Rollercoaster."
"God's mercy, no!" Conway gasped, as Simmons pulled
him out of his chair.
"You were saying?" Baxter said joyfully, as Simmons
forced Conway to strut his stuff.
"I object to this dishonor," Lt. J'hana said, folding
her arms. "And I refuse to betray my pride in such a
fashion."
"You'll boogie and you'll like it, missy," Baxter
wheezed as he danced. "If I have to suffer, everyone
suffers! That's an order!"
And before they knew it, the whole bridge crew was up
on their feet, hand-jiving their way to a trimmer waistline.
"Okay, everyone, that's a wrap!" Simmons said, an hour
later.
The bridge crew collapsed to the deck, breathless and
wheezing.
"Already?" Ford gasped. "The time just...just flew
by!"
Commander Conway tried in vain to drag himself to a
replicator for some coffee, but collapsed to the deck from
exaustion before moving an inch.
"You guys were great!" Simmons said. He and Peterman
were the only ones still standing. "I can't wait to see how
you've improved during tomorrow's session!"
"To-tomorrow?" J'hana wheezed. "Is he kidding?"
"You should be used to this, J'hana. A warrior such
as yourself." Peterman said, wrapping a towel around her
neck and taking a seat back in her chair.
"This is not the work of a warrior. This is the work
of a p-p-pansy that needs a good stab in the neck with a
ritual blade."
"Sticks and stones, J'hana," Simmons said, waving a
finger. "Now put those angry words deep in your pocket, and
pull out some joy to take their place."
"Permission to kill Mr. Simmons," J'hana said,
withdrawing her phaser and leaning up from the deck.
"Granted," Baxter gasped, pulling himself back to his
chair.
"Don't even think about it." Peterman said, standing
in front of Simmons. "This man is the best thing that ever
happened to this ship of slobs."
"Shoot her too," Baxter gasped, leaning his head back
and closing her eyes.
"With pleasure, Captain," J'hana said, when suddenly
there was a beep at her panel.
"Is anyone going to get that?" Baxter asked.
The beeping continued.
"Oh, I guess I will," J'hana said, throwing her hands
up in the air. "I do all the work on this ship anyway. I
will have to kill Mr. Simmons and Counselor Peterman later."
After several moments, Baxter looked back. "What is
it, J'hana?"
"A message from Lt. Commander Larkin. She lost contact
with her team in the caves and is going in after them."
"Does she require reinforcements?" Baxter asked.
"Negative."
"Good, then let's take ten and hit the showers,"
Baxter said, dragging himself back to the readyroom.
Baxter had just finished putting on the clean uniform
he replicated when the door to his readyroom sounded with a
pleasant bleep.
"Come," Baxter said, zipping the front of his uniform
and straightening it as he took a seat at his desk.
Lt. Tilleran quickly stepped into the room, padd in
hand. "I have a lot to report to you, sir."
"Back from the Destiny already?" Baxter asked,
gesturing for Tilleran to have a seat.
The Betazoid quickly sat down. "Yes, sir. Captain, I
have a strong suspicion that the other humans who were
in stasis down there were kidnapped by aliens."
"You found some evidence?" Baxter asked.
Tilleran offered the Captain her padd. "What you see
there is a complex biological structure. That's the makeup
of the residue we found around the four empty pods."
"Alien poop."
"Exactly sir. But what's so odd about the structure
of the alien feces is that it contains some uniquely terran
characteristics."
"Which means?"
"Which means these 'aliens' are not aliens at all.
They were comprised of terran DNA. It's my theory that they
were actually genetically engineered and left aboard the
Destiny."
"To what end?"
"I don't know, but whatever the case it seems that
they could very possibly be the reason the Destiny crashed
in the first place."
"Why would the government engineer something so
horrible?"
"I don't know the answer to that either. But I can
tell you that by the makeup of this feces these creatures
are burrowing parasites, capable of inhabiting a human
body."
Baxter examined the animated graphic on the padd: a
spiny looking cartoon alien burrowing itself in the chest of
a human.
"Gross," Baxter said.
"That's exactly what I said, sir," Tilleran replied.
"You know, coincidentally enough, part of Larkin's
team came up missing while they were looking for the missing
humans."
"You don't say," Tilleran said. "Forgive me for
jumping to conclusions, but don't you think there's a remote
possibility that these creatures may have gotten our people
too?"
"Gee, that never would have occurred to me." Baxter
rubbed his chin. "Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt to at least
contact Larkin and tell her about our findings." Baxter
tapped his comm badge. "Baxter to Larkin."
After waiting a few moments, Baxter tried again.
Nothing.
"Captain, we have to go down there. Our people could
be in grave danger."
"Agreed," Baxter said, pushing himself up with a
grunt.
"Are you okay, sir?" Tilleran asked.
"No. Damn muscle pull." Baxter winced as he limped
out of the readyroom. "Simmons has been working me too
hard."
"The guy we sent back from the Destiny?" Tilleran
asked.
"Yeah, he thawed out when he got back here, and he's
been making us work out ever since."
"Oh. I guess that would explain the crewmembers lining
up in the corridors doing jumpingjacks to twentieth century
Earth music."
"Trust me, there's nothing to worry about," Baxter
said, shrugging on his survival jacket and grabbing a
compression phaser rifle from Lt. J'hana. "We're just going
to go in, find our people, and get out."
"Sounds easy enough," Peterman replied, watching the
security officers in the transporter room get ready. "Just
promise to be careful."
"I will," Baxter said, zipping up his jacket.
"Where's the geek?"
"If you're referring to Richard, he's in the upper
auditorium doing aerobics with the engineering staff,"
Peterman said defensively.
"Try not to let him work you too hard while I'm gone."
"Hey, what are you insinuating?" Peterman asked, as
Lt. Hartley punched up the coordinates.
"I think you know. Don't you think I've noticed what
a liking you've taken to that hairy little shmuck?"
"You've got it all wrong, Andy. If you'd just open
up and let his goodness inside you..."
Baxter mounted the transporter pad, along with Lt.
Tilleran, Lt. J'hana, and five security officers. "I think
you've done enough of that for both of us. Energize Miss
Hartley."
"Why you damned-" Peterman said, as Baxter
dematerialized.
"Hey, Kelly," Hartley said, prompting Peterman to
turn around.
"What?" Peterman said exasperatedly.
"Could you please call off your spandex-wearing freak
friend! He's going to kill this whole crew! You know he
had us doing toe touches to Tina Turner for two hours!
I'm sore in places I didn't know I had!"
"Tell it to someone who cares." Peterman fumed,
storming out of the transporter room.
"Lights on, everyone," Baxter said, activating the
light on his phaser rifle. "And be careful. I'll take
point. Lt. Tilleran, I want you and J'hana behind me."
Lt. Tilleran fell in behind Baxter, whipping out her
tricorder and beginning scans. "Captain, this cave spirals
three kilometers below the surface of the planet. It's
huge."
"Well, then we have a long search ahead of us," Baxter
grunted, swinging his rifle around, shining his beacon
throughout the massive caves. "Can you at least get a lead
on our crew?"
"I'm getting weak comm badge signals from about a
kilometer ahead, but that's about--" Tilleran suddenly
clutched her temple.
"What is it?" Baxter asked, turning.
"A wave of noise...almost like...some kind of song in
my mind," Tilleran said. "It's so powerful, so evil...it's
almost overwhelming."
"Maybe it's Martha Stewart," Baxter offered.
"No--" Tilleran said, wincing. "It's inhuman,
animal..."
"Gallagher?"
Tilleran shrugged. "Whatever it is, it's getting stronger."
"Rifles to maximum everyone," Baxter said, tapping his
comm badge. "Explorer, this is Baxter. Are you tracking
us?"
"Yes, sir," Commander Conway's voice responded. "But
we've had to boost the sensor gain to maximum. We have a
weak video feed, infrared only."
"It's all the nonporous rock, sir," Tilleran said.
"The visual will only get worse."
"Have Lt. Hartley keep a lock on us as long as she
can." Baxter said. "And have her be ready to beam us out
as soon as we call. We may find ourselves in some deep
s***."
"Understood. Explorer out."
"Good afternoon, everyone. I brought you some
snacks!" Simmons said joyfully, stepping out onto the bridge
and offering his tray full of goodies to the officers at
tactical and engineering.
"Get off my damn bridge," Conway growled.
Simmons offered the tray up to Commander Conway.
"Come on, Commander, just try one."
Conway picked up one of the treats and inspected it.
"What is it?"
"Mushroom caps, stuffed with a yogurt mustard sauce
and a sprinkle of paprika for that..." Simmons put his
thumb and forefinger to his lips and kissed them, "Je ne
sais quois!"
"Looks pretty damn small."
"But it's fat free," Simmons said, shoving the plate
up to Conway. "And you know why they call it fat free?
Because is frees you from all that horrible horrible fat."
"Leave me alone," Conway said, returning to the
command chair.
Simmons placed the tray on top of the ops console and
sat down next to Commander Conway, placing his hands neatly
into his lap and leaning forward. "Commander Conway," he
said gently, "around my house, anger was always considered a
four-letter word. Something tells me you were raised
differently. Let me tell you something. You can't let that
anger out, no matter how much you spread it around. The
only way you can kill it is with kindness!" Simmons made an
expansive gesture with his hands. "Pure, unadulterated
kindness!"
"You know, speaking of how you were raised, I was
thinking of something." Conway leaned forward, smiling.
"Yes?" Simmons said.
"Everyone you ever knew or cared about is dead. DEAD
DEAD DEAD." Conway tossed back a last swig of coffee.
"Chew on that awhile you fat free freak."
"Oh, Commander Conway, that was the most horrible
thing I've ever heard. How could you--" Simmons burst out
into tears, running off the bridge.
"Well that wasn't very nice," Ford said.
"Shut up."
"He made us snacks and all," Ensign Madera said
sadly. "And all he wants is for us to be healthy."
"Everyone shut up!" Conway roared.
"Ewwwwwwwww." Captain Baxter poked the fleshy
mass with is rifle. "What is it?"
"A cocoon," Lt. Tilleran said, examining the huge
purple object with her tricorder.
"You mean there is something alive in there?" J'hana
asked with disgust.
"Affirmative," Tilleran replied. "As a matter of
fact, I'm reading a comm badge signal."
"Whose?" Baxter asked, peering through the semi-
transparent mass.
"Ensign Timothy Milano," Tilleran looked up. "He's in
there, and I can feel him, Captain. We have to get him
out."
"Just say the word, Captain," J'hana said, pulling her
Andorian blade out of her jacket and setting it to flay.
"Do it, J'hana, just make sure you cut the cocoon, not
Ensign Milano."
J'hana carved into the thick purple shell, peeling it
back layer by layer, until she yanked out a goo-covered
Ensign Milano.
"Can you revive him?" Baxter asked, peering at the
Ensign skeptically.
"I can-" Tilleran said, when suddenly the Ensign's
eyes snapped open.
"Kill me now!" he shouted. "Before it's too late!"
"What the hell is he talking about? Too late for
what?" Baxter asked, looking to Lt. Tilleran.
"I don't know," Tilleran said, looking at her
tricorder. "Wait a minute, something is...inside him!"
"Oh, f***," Baxter said, looking down at Milano's
chest, which began to bulge.
Before anyone could react, Milano's chest ripped open
with a disgusting pop and a strange, purple and green lizard
emerged, staring at Baxter with interest.
"Hello," he said in a cartoony voice. "I'm Barney. I
love you. Do you love me?"
"What the f*** is this?" J'hana asked, peering at the
creature.
"I'm not sure," Tilleran said, studying it with her
tricorder. "It's organic...but...it looks almost like a..."
"Barney, Barney, Barney," Baxter said finally. "I've
heard that name somewhere before."
"Well, whatever it is, it's growing at an exponential
rate," Tilleran said.
Suddenly the creature lept out of Milano's chest and
latched onto Baxter's face. "You're my friend!"
"Help!" Baxter cried, falling back to the floor of
the cave.
"Shall I shoot it off you, Captain?" J'hana asked,
leaning over Baxter helpfully.
"No, thank you!" Baxter said. "Tilleran, get this
damned thing off me! I think he's hugging me!"
"Trying, sir," Tilleran said. "He's on pretty good."
J'hana looked back at Ensign Milano, who appeared to
be none the worse for wear, save a gaping hole in his chest.
"Hi, Lt. J'hana. How are you?" he asked.
"You know, the day has had its ups and downs."
Suddenly the creature popped off Baxter's face with a
disgusting sucking sound.
Holding the creature by one arm, Tilleran examined it
with her tricorder. "This is amazing, Captain. This is a
fully developed parasitic lifeform, which, after implanting
itself in a host body, grows to full capacity, then implants
another host. Quite efficient."
Baxter rubbed his face, which was still sore, and
covered with purple goo. "How nice. Any sign of Larkin
and the others yet?"
"Negative." Tilleran replied. "Though I'm picking up
a mass of more cocoons up ahead. If our people are inside
the cocoons, then their comm badges will most likely be as
difficult to pick up as Ensign Milano's."
"What about life signs?" Baxter asked.
"There are definitely life signs up ahead," Tilleran
said, squinting at her tricorder readings. "However, I
can't quite tell which ones are human and which ones
are...not."
"Just keep looking. The rest of our people have to be
down here somewhere."
Baxter and the team moved cautiously and quietly
through the caves. Suddenly, Baxter heard muffled shouts
and thumping next to him.
He whipped around, flashing his light at the purple
cocoon beside him. Inside, someone was slamming fists up
against the walls of the cocoon in an attempt to get out.
"Get him out of there," Baxter ordered, as J'hana
began hacking away with her knife.
Tilleran examined the dimly lit area. It was wider
than the tunnels they had come through, and contained
several of the purple cocoons.
"Something is blocking me from getting a clear
telapathic reading," Tilleran replied. "But I can get comm
signals." Tilleran ran her tricorder along the row of
cocoons surrounding them. "I'm reading Gellar, Saral, Jett,
Baker, Puckett...the whole security team!"
"Well then, where the hell is Larkin?" Baxter asked,
scratching his head.
"We must leave immediately!" a voice suddenly cried. A
shadowy figure lept from a high-up ledge, dropping fifty-odd
meters to the ground and landing easily on her feet.
"Hello," Lt. Commander Larkin said, looking around. "We
are all in extreme danger."
"Larkin, am I glad to see you," Baxter said. Larkin's uniform
was tattered, and her outer skin was ripped in several places,
exposing the circuitry underneath. "What happened?"
"There is insufficient time to explain. Suffice it to
say, we should all leave."
Baxter watched as J'hana and the security officers cut
away at the cocoons. "Not until we get everyone out."
"There may not be time enough for that, Captain,"
Larkin said.
"There damn well will be," Baxter said. "I'm not just
going to--"
"Captain!" Tilleran cried, staring at her tricorder.
"I just picked up fifty nonhuman life signs..."
"What direction?" Baxter asked, whipping his head
in Tilleran's direction.
Tilleran just kept staring at her tricorder.
"Damn it, Tilleran, what direction?"
Tilleran looked up, her face ashen. "Every direction,
sir!"
Suddenly Tilleran grabbed her head and dropped to her
knees. "That damn song again, sir! Do you hear it?"
Off in the distance, Baxter heard the song, and it
sent shivers down his spine.
"I love you, you love me, we're a happy family!"
"The tea is ready," Simmons said happily, carrying a
tray into Peterman's living room and dropping a doggy treat
into Charlie's dish.
"Thank you, Richard," Peterman said, taking a cup as
Simmons sat down. "I'm so sorry for the way Commander
Conway treated you. There will be a reprimand on his record
for that."
"It's okay," Simmons said, crossing his legs and
sipping his tea. "I have learned to put my energy to
good use, and I've benefited your crew. That's all I need."
"You are a truly wonderful person, Richard." Peterman
said, putting a hand on Simmons' hand.
Simmons smiled coyly. "Oh, you're just saying that."
"No, I really mean it," Peterman smiled. "You have
something very beautiful inside you."
"Phasers ready everyone, maximum charge!" Baxter
cried, as suddenly four huge, purple, green-spotted,
dinosaur-looking creatures lept down from above.
"This is near," one of them growled.
"E is for Eat!" the other one said, wrapping a claw
around one of the security officers and biting his head
off. "I like to eat. Do you?"
"Larkin, watch out!" Tilleran cried, rolling over
just as one of the Barneys lunged at her.
Larkin looked up, just in time to see a claw from
one of the creatures reach down and pick her up.
Baxter watched in horror as the creature ripped
Larkin in two, exposing jagged, sparking circuitry.
"One half!" the creature said gleefully. "Divide by
two, hee hee!"
"Smoke them!" Baxter cried, firing his phaser at the
creature that was holding Larkin.
Barneys pitched forward left and right as the group
layed waste with their phaser rifles, but for every one that
fell, more rose up.
"We love you, you must die, feel our claws rip out
your eyes!" the Barneys chanted as they dove after Baxter
and his team.
"Baxter to Explorer, I need evac right now! I have
purple dinosaurs coming in from all sides!" Baxter cried,
shooting left and right and running through the caves.
"Explorer...come in! Come in!"
"We're too far underground!" Tilleran cried.
"There's no way to get a comm signal out!"
Baxter ducked as a mauled body flew past him, spraying
phaser fire into a mass of attacking Barneys. "Everyone
grab one of the trapped crewmen and move out!"
J'hana ripped open the last cocoon, yanking Ensign
Saral out. "Come on, Vulcan! Show me what you've got!"
Saral's eyes fluttered open. "Lieutenant..."
"Can you walk?" J'hana asked.
"I...think...so..." Saral said shakily.
"Good." J'hana said. "I'm going to get Larkin."
"But, J'hana..." Saral said.
J'hana looked back. "Go. That is an order!"
Tilleran fired her rifle again and again. "There are
just too many, Captain! We can't push through!"
"Can't is not a word, Lieutenant!" Baxter cried,
pushing through a mass of aliens. "Where there is a will,
there is a way! Something I learned from Richard Simmons!"
J'hana plunged through a clump of aliens, firing her
phaser rifle madly. "Lt. Commander Larkin!"
"Zrrt...over...fzzt...here, J'hana," Larkin said
weakly.
J'hana cleared a path through alien after alien to get
to Larkin, falling by the Android's side. "You are coming
with me."
"I cannot," Larkin said. "I am...zzzt...too badly
damaged. Leave me."
"Negative," J'hana said, hoisting half of Larkin
with one hand, and half of her with the other.
"Who will shoot your...drrt...rifle?" Larkin asked.
J'hana kneeled down next to where she sat her rifle.
"You will. Now grab it."
"Very well," Larkin said, grabbing the rifle with
her one functioning hand. "I shall endeavor to do my best."
"Do not talk. Shoot!" J'hana cried, running through
the cave with half of Larkin perched on each shoulder.
Barneys clambered after as Baxter, J'hana, Tilleran,
and the other security officers broke past them, the
recently un-cocooned officers in tow.
"We're almost there!" Tilleran cried, firing her
phaser backwards as she lugged Ensign Puckett. "We
should be able to reach the Explorer in a matter of
seconds!"
Baxter gasped for air as he ran, lugging Lt. Gellar
across his shoulders. "I'm sure glad I'm getting into
shape!"
Commander Conway stretched and yawned as he emerged
from the readyroom. "My my, that was a nice nap. Any word
from the team yet?"
"Not yet," Lt. Ford said, rising from the command
chair. "And it's been over an hour since we last heard from
them."
Conway sat down and leaned back. "You're not
worried, are you?"
"Me? Heck, no." Ford said, taking a seat at helm.
"Message coming in," Ensign Monroe said, looking up
from tactical.
"On audio," Conway commanded.
"Bzzt...er to Explorer....-eam-out now. Get
us...out...zzt ...ere!"
"Eam out now get us out zzt ere?" Ford asked. "What
could that mean?"
"They're calling for beamout, you idiot!" Conway
shouted. "Conway to Hartley. Bring the team up now!"
"I'm having trouble locking on sir. Stand by."
Hartley said.
"Come on, come on!" Conway said.
"Got 'em, sir." Hartley reported over the comm. "We
had so many some were routed to the other two transporter
rooms."
"Conway, this is Baxter," Baxter's voice said frantically
over the comm. "You have to seal that cave down there at
all costs. There are rabid purple dinosaurs on that planet.
Tons of them!"
"Pardon me, sir," Conway said in disbelief. "Did
you say... purple dinosaurs?"
"Don't ask questions, Conway! Just nuke the bastards!
Nuke 'em!"
"Yes, sir," Conway said, looking back at Ensign Monroe.
"Load up two tri-cobalts and send them down to the entrance
of the cave now, Ensign!"
Baxter gasped for air, leaning up against the transporter room
monitor and watching as the two twinkling tri-cobalt devices
descended toward the dark red rock of the cave entrance,
exploding in a bright blue glare, spreading a cloud of dust
and rock into the air.
"Suck on those, you motherfwarkers," J'hana wheezed,
dropping the two halves of Larkin and putting her hands on
her knees.
"Get a medical team in here right now, Lt. Hartley, and
have the engineers see what they can to for Larkin,"
Baxter said, looking down at the security officers they
rescued from the cocoons. "If my guess is right, these guys
all have some big f***ing gall stones to be removed."
"We...never...did...find the other occupants of those
pods." Tilleran gasped, setting Ensign Puckett down.
"Do you suppose they were infested like the others?"
Baxter asked, turning to Tilleran.
"It's a good bet, sir."
Baxter's face suddenly went pale. "What about
Simmons?"
"Simmons?" Tilleran asked. "Well, I don't--"
"But he could!"
"It's possible," Tilleran finally said.
Baxter grabbed Tilleran's arm and dragged her out of
the transporter room. "I need you and your tricorder to
come with me. J'hana, you too! And bring a phaser!"
"Not more running!" J'hana gasped, grabbing a phaser
and following after the Captain.
"Computer," Baxter said, marching down the corridor
toward a turbolift, "locate Richard Simmons."
"Richard Simmons is in Counselor Peterman's office."
"God damn it," Baxter muttered, stepping into the
turbolift, followed by Larkin and Tilleran. "Deck Nine."
"Care for some cake?" Simmons asked, placing the tea
service into the replicator for reclamation.
"Are you kidding?" Peterman asked. "All those empty
calories?"
"Relax, sweety," Simmons said, punching up something
on the replicator. "This is angel food cake. Fat free for
a fat free little angel."
"How sweet. Sure, order me up a slice."
Suddenly Captain Baxter, Lt. Tilleran, and Lt. J'hana
burst into Peterman's quarters, looking as if they'd all
been through World War Three.
"Andy, what is this?" Peterman asked, looking at
Baxter's blood and gook-stained uniform.
"This is bad," Baxter said, pushing Peterman aside
and shoving a phaser up against Simmons' head. "We've got
a little test to run, sweetie pie."
"Whatever could you mean?" Simmons asked.
"Do it," Baxter said, glancing back at Tilleran.
J'hana held a phaser on Simmons from behind Baxter,
just in case.
Tilleran examined Simmons with her tricorder. "He's
clean as far as I can tell." Tilleran put away the
tricorder.
J'hana put down her phaser. "False alarm. I'm going
to go lose conciousness somewhere now."
"I don't get it," Baxter said, putting his phaser down
and staring at Simmons.
"What don't you get?" Simmons asked. "What's this
all about?"
"Oh, we just thought you were inhabited by an evil
parasitic creature, that's all." Baxter said. "Nothing to
worry about now, though."
"Parasitic?" Peterman asked. "Andy, that's a
terrible thing to say. You apologize for saying Richard has
an evil parasitic creature inside him."
"But, Kelly," Baxter whined.
"Now," Peterman said, tapping her foot.
Baxter turned back to Simmons. "Listen, Richard, I'm
sorry I said you had an evil parasitic creature inside you.
That was hurtful and mean."
"Well, I'm always ready to accept a-" Simmons
suddenly stopped, clutching at his stomach. "Oooh, darned
colon."
"J'hana, Tilleran!" Baxter shouted, pulling his phaser
back out and holding it on Simmons. "Get back in here! The
Barneys must not show up on scans until just before they
come out!"
Suddenly the creature exploded out of Simmons' chest
in a hail of blood, skittering across the floor and clamping
onto the first live thing it could find.
"Charlie!" Peterman cried, running to her dog's aid.
Charlie growled and whined and grunted, rolling around
on the floor with the struggling purple dinosaur attached to
his face.
J'hana ran into the room, phaser drawn. Immediately
her eyes fell to Charlie. "Oh, Captain, let me kill the
dog!"
"Stand down!" Baxter shouted, holding a hand up.
Peterman would never forgive him if he let J'hana have her
fun.
Charlie jumped to his feet, shaking his snout until it
was wrapped around the Barney. He bit down and shook his
head some more, causing the creature to wail in pain.
"Give, Charlie, give!" Peterman cried, yanking on the
creature's tail.
Charlie yanked back, munching happily on the alien.
"Come on, Charlie," Baxter said, grabbing one of the
creature's stubby legs. "Spit her out. Come on, it may
have acid blood for all you know."
Suddenly Charlie let go, causing Baxter, Peterman, and
the creature to fall backwards.
The creature flew through the air, and in one
beautiful shot, J'hana vaporized it before it had a chance
to hit the ground.
"Sickbay, I need a medical team in Counselor
Peterman's office, stat!" Lt. Tilleran said, examining
Simmons with her tricorder.
"Oh, I'm dying!" Simmons cried, as blood spurted from
the open football-sized wound in his chest. "I can feel the
life oozing out of me!"
Peterman dropped to her knees next to Simmons. "You
aren't going to die, Richard! You just can't die. You have
too much to give!"
Simmons' eyes flipped up into his head as he went into
shock. "Ach, Kelly, I've really got the spilctus now!"
Dr. Browning ran into the room with a medkit, looking
down at Simmons with disgust. "Ewwwwww...you can see his
ribcage poking out. That's so disgusting. I'm patching up
chests left and right today for some reason!"
"Just fix him up, Doctor," Baxter ordered, pulling
Peterman back away from Simmons and holding onto her. "I'm
sure he'll be fine, honey."
"He took such good care of his body," Peterman sobbed,
"only to have it ripped open by some parasitic purple baby
dinosaur!"
Baxter hugged Peterman tighter. "That's the way
things happen sometimes, sweetheart."
Captain's Log,
Stardate 52462.8. After having Kritada Four declared
"OFF LIMITS" by the Federation Council, we've made course to
rendez-vous with someone who seems to need Mr. Simmons' help
much more than we do. I can say that Simmons has seemed a
little less energetic the last couple of days; but, then again,
I suppose having a disgusting creature burst out of your chest
has a pretty heavy effect.
"So how did Starfleet like your report?" Commander
Conway asked, following Baxter to the transporter room to see
Simmons off.
"They were horrified, as they should have been," Baxter
said. "Another in a long list of planets we've visited that
I never want to see again."
"What about the whole government project thing?" Conway
asked.
"As far as the Barney project goes, Earth's United States
government was obviously trying to design a creature that was
horrifying enough to send fear into any enemy troops. When the
project backfired, they loaded up the Barney creatures along with
some Earth loonies that wanted to be preserved in space and shot
them out into the far reaches. Evidently, some kind of horrible
accident happened along the way."
"Sounds pretty damn confounded to me, Captain."
"That's the government for you. Anyway, the Federation
Council seemed a little concerned that we couldn't find the other
bodies. I told them I was sure they'd turn up somewhere, and that
we'd keep an eye out for them," Baxter said.
"Why do I get the feeling we're going to go to some
restaurant a month from now and have Bill Gates as our
waiter?" Conway asked, as he and Baxter entered the
transporter room.
"Because you are a very strange person," Baxter said,
nodding at Lt. Hartley as he stepped in front of the
transporter console. "Lock in coordinates, Lieutenant."
"Locked in sir," Hartley said happily. "Where is our man
in spandex, anyway?"
"He should be here presently," Baxter said, leaning
back against the panel. "Peterman is supposed to be bringing
him here."
"Captain, I hate to interfere in your personal life,
but--" Hartley began.
"He is not shtuping Kelly, and that's the end of it,"
Baxter said, folding his arms.
"Of course he's not," Conway said. "He's obviously, you
know--"
Baxter glared at Conway. "What?"
"You know, he fires out of the AFT torpedo tube, instead
of the FORE."
"No kidding?"
"Simmons?" Hartley asked. "Come on!"
"No, I mean it," Conway said, looking from Baxter to
Hartley. "Half of the humans in America during the nineteen
nineties were--you know--like that."
"Let's just quit with the speculation," Baxter said. "I
trust my girlfriend and that's it."
At that, the doors to the transporter room parted to
admit Counselor Peterman and Richard Simmons. Baxter
noticed that Simmons still had a large grey bandage on his
chest where the creature had bursted out.
"Hello, my dear friends," Simmons said, entering the
room and giving Baxter a big hug. "I'll miss you all so
much."
"Get off my ship," Baxter grunted, as Simmons squeezed.
Simmons backed off, smiling politely. "I hope I haven't
caused you guys any trouble."
"Actually, you haven't. We like our crewmembers to be
infested with parasitic dinosaurs and made to sweat to songs
from the mid-twentieth century." Conway muttered.
Baxter nodded, "Get on the pad, Dick."
"Of course," Simmons replied. "You know, you guys will
miss me when I'm gone. This place seems pretty darn boring if
you ask me. It needs some excitement every now and then."
"We have more than enough without you. Bye-bye then."
Baxter said, waving for Lt. Hartley to energize.
"Goodbye, Kelly!" Simmons said. "And remember to try
my recipe for blentzes! They're absolutely fabulous!"
Peterman waved as Simmons disappeared, turning to a
disgruntled Baxter.
"Trading recipes, are you?" Baxter asked, raising an
eyebrow. "You know what they say. First recipes, then
reproductive juices!"
"Can't say I remember that one," Hartley said.
"We were just like girlfriends," Peterman said. "Which,
actually, now that you mention it, is kind of odd."
"See?" Conway said, following Peterman and Baxter.
"I guess we'll never know," Baxter said, putting his arm
around Peterman as the three of them proceeded down the
corridor.
"Maybe we're just better off that way," Conway said,
looking down the corridor and stopping in his tracks. "Watch
out, guys. Here comes Charlie."
"Come here, my little bugaboo!" Peterman said, kneeling
down and calling Charlie to her. "What do you have in your
mouth, boy?"
Upon closer examination, Peterman realized that Charlie
had a dead Barney in his mouth. After some yanking and
tugging, Peterman managed to yank the parasite free and hand
it to Baxter.
"Damn it, Charlie, I told you to stay out of Lieutenant
Tilleran's lab." Baxter said, waving the purple creature in
Charlie's face. "This is research!"
"Better put it back with the others," Peterman sighed.
"That reminds me," Conway said. "Are you sure we got
all the parasites out of all our officers that were implanted
down on Kritada Four?"
"Of course," Baxter said.
Just then Lt. Gellar walked by. "Hey, guys, how's it-URK!"
A hole opened up in Lt. Gellar's chest and a creature
climbed out, baring its tiny fangs and hopping down to the
deck, skittering away.
Gellar calmly looked down at the gaping hole in his
chest, looked back up at Baxter, shrugged, and passed out.
"Clean up on deck eleven," Baxter said, rolling his
eyes. Charlie looked up at Baxter pleadingly. "Okay, boy, go
get him!"
And just like that, Charlie bolted down the corridor.
"Well, that's probably the last one," Baxter said,
watching Charlie slap the tiny creature with his paws and sink
his teeth in.
"I'm really very glad to meet you, sir." Simmons said,
twisting his arms as "Mama Said" played on. "I hear you're
quite a respected man around here. You could say we're
kindered spirits. Both two men out of place, out of time."
Simmons looked up melodramatically, sighing and wiping a tear
from his eye. "How we've both been forced to grow and adapt."
"Uh-huh," the other man replied, grunting in time to the
music.
"Well, enough of this chatting. Let's pick up the
tempo. Computer, change songs. Let's hear 'Disco Inferno.'
C'mon, Captain, I want to see you move those flabby buns!"
"I'm givin' it all I got, laddie!" Captain Montgomery
Scott grunted, forcing himself through more squat thrusts,
"But I'm warning ye, I canna take much more o this!"
NEXT:
When Commander Conway's ex-wife accidentally transforms
the Explorer into a magical kingdom. It's up to him, Peterman,
and Larkin to return the ship to its former, very un-magical state.